We're standing on the rim of the ocean with the waves crashing in front of us like aquatic freight trains hellbent on plowing themselves into the rocky coast. The wind is pushing so hard I brace myself against the stones and hold my hand up against my eyes to block the snow whipping around us in what I imagine is the same way electrons whip around inside an atom.
With the lights of the town visible as a blurred glow behind us, I squint and I swear I can see the edge of the world.
The edge of the world, where gallant naval vessels helmed by bleary eyed sailors venture and fall right off into nothing; where giant beasts clad in claws and fur and teeth breath out clouds of frost; where brave souls go and return changed, if they return at all.
We come here to learn and to grow and to live. Standing here, the foolish imagine themselves heroes, while the apt realize they are mere pygmies among giants.
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